PARANORMAL ROMANCE: Bear Naked Satisfaction (Fantasy Shapeshifter Alpha Male Romance Book 3) (Contemporary New Adult Billionaire Steamy Romance Short Stories) (4 page)

              Fernando moaned, the hum of the sound traveling down her breast. He nipped the bottom of her breast. “So eager,” he whispered.

              “Yes,” she panted. She grabbed the waistline of her pants and panties and started pulling them down. “Yes, so eager for you.”

              He huffed at that. It was a gentle sound, but there was something about it that left an unpleasant taste on Andrea’s tongue. But before she could question him, he was sliding his fingers down her stomach, over her mound, and into her moist folds. Immediately, she spread her legs wider and rubbed herself against him.

              “Yes, yes,” she said, the heat rising inside of her at a rapid rate. “God, yes, more. More, please, Fernando.”

              Having barely moved inside of her, he took out his fingers. She cried out in frustration.

              “So eager,” he repeated, huskier this time. He grabbed his own pants—her shaking hands grabbing them, too—and they pulled them and his underwear down to his knees. Fernando was clearly about to pull them farther down, but she grabbed his hard, pulsating cock. He inhaled sharply, shuddering.

              “So eager,” she said teasingly. She began pumping him, her nails scratching his tender flesh every so often. “Are you ready to have me yet?” She squeezed him, and she grinned when he gasped. “Or do you want to keeping playing these games?”

              Grunting, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand off of him. Then he positioned his member over her throbbing core before shoving himself inside of her.

              She jolted, swearing. Mindlessly, she moved against him—creating more friction between them as he pumped himself in out and of her. Their rhythm was uneven, his hips arching at various angles over and over again. Her entire body trembled, pleasure growing larger and larger inside her loins.

              She was crying out his name by the time she came, his hot seed spurting inside of her. They both kept moving—kept rubbing against each other—making the most of the explosion of ecstasy that overtook their senses. She spluttered out his name and several compliments while he grunted things in Spanish.

              By the time Andrea’s aftershocks had become softer in nature, Fernando had collapsed on top of her. He breathed heavily against her neck, his flesh covered in a thin layer of sweat.

              Knowing that this good feeling would soon be swallowed by self-loathing and doubt, Andrea closed her eyes and tried to will herself to fall asleep. She cringed when Fernando slowly pulled his member out of her, but when he remained on top of her, she calmed a bit. He wasn’t saying or doing anything cruel toward her, and his body surrounding hers…it made her feel safe.

              She lost consciousness in a matter of moments.

Chapter 5

              A massive warmth enveloped half of Andrea, and there was a weight to it—crushing her a little. Confused by this sensation, she slowly opened her eyes. It took her a moment to remember last night—to remember failing her job. The memories stabbed into her confidence, wilting along with any kind of self-appreciation she had for herself. Shifting with discomfort, the weight on top of her right half became even more noticeable to her, and she turned toward it.

              A large sphere of dark fur took up over half the space of the bed, its body heavily leaning against hers to the point where it was partially on top of it.

              Andrea screamed, scrambling from beneath the beast and falling to the floor.

              The body of fur stiffened as a roundish head popped up.

              By now, Andrea knew she should have known better, but she couldn’t control the instinctive fear that burst in her blood. Pressing herself against the wall, she gawked at the bear as he regarded her with wide eyes. A whimper escaped her and she shook harder.

              The bear, its face a light tan and its snout round, reeled back. As it also fell out of bed, its body shrunk and its fur receded. Within seconds, Fernando was standing there, panting and leaning over the bed.

              “Sorry,” he choked out, staring at the covers. “I didn’t mean to…sometimes that happens when I sleep.”

              Andrea relaxed, a breath whooshing out of her. “Right. Sorry, too. I just…forgot about…you know.” Blushing, she shook her head and got back into bed. Remembering her nudity, her blush deepened, and she quickly covered herself with the comforter. Wanting to distract herself and Fernando from this embarrassing moment, she asked, “What time is it?”

              He glanced at the clock on the nightstand right beside her. “It’s 6:30.”

              She nodded. “Early.”

              He blinked at her, his expression tensed. As much as he seemed to love his privacy, he wasn’t the least bit modest as he stood there in all his glory. Though it did look like he had forgotten about his lack of clothing, his attention focused solely on her.

              With a start, Andrea realized that he still didn’t trust her. And why would he? She was all the awful things he had accused her of being, and there was nothing to show for it now. She knew she couldn’t turn in what little evidence she had of these bear-shifters to Ms. Lee; if nothing else, it would bring attention to the Billionaire Trio’s true nature, and she just…it just didn’t feel right anymore.

              Fatigue grabbing her and pulling her down, she lowered her head and sighed. She was too tired for tears—too tired to feel anything but resigned. “Fernando, I…I am sorry about everything. I…I don’t know what I was thinking. I’ll get dressed and I’ll leave.” Keeping the comforter over her body, she stood up and searched the floor for her clothes. “I mean, I need some money for airfa—”

              Fernando had circled around the bed and now faced her, his eyes unreadable as he stared into hers.

              Anxiety jittered through her, and she tightened her grip on the blanket. Uncertain of what was happening—what he was feeling or thinking—she held her breath and tried to think of an escape plan.

              He took one tentative step after another toward her. When he was mere inches in front of her, his eyelids lowered.

              Andrea’s eyebrows rose. Hesitantly—fearing she was reading him wrong—she tilted her head upward and leaned toward him.

              He leaned forward in return, pressing his lips against hers. Immediately, they molded together, the comforter falling between them.

              Guilt and want guiding her, Andrea ran one hand down his torso before she lightly gripped his cock. She squeezed it, ran her thumb over it—every little motion she made was gentle and with the purpose to make him feel good. A part of her hoped it could make up for her past mistakes while another part just wanted to feel him again.

              In return, Fernando also ran his hand down her stomach before pressing his fingers against her soft clit. Slowly yet erratically, he rubbed random patterns into it, moistening it.

              Despite the previous night’s exerting activities, Andrea soon felt her clit harden and throb beneath Fernando’s touch. She jutted against his fingers, enchanting warmth flushing throughout her flesh. All the while, her grip on Fernando’s cock tightened. She still managed to slide her hand up and down the hardening length, the friction rough.

              It was a matter of minutes until she came, a soft exhale exiting her lips as pleasure took hold of her.

              Fernando came a moment later. His seed splattered over her stomach, already hot from her own orgasm coursing through her.

              Panting, she wobbled on her feet and leaned against him. As in afterthought, she released his member. Then he, slowly, slid his fingers over her one last time before fully retracting his hand.

              “Maybe,” Fernando croaked, not quite looking at her. He swallowed, his eyes watering. “If the alchemist can’t break the curse, then maybe we should be…maybe our species should no longer be so secretive.”

              Andrea’s eyes widened. Disbelieving—confused as hell—she spluttered out, “What?”

              “I don’t like that idea,” he said, growling a little. He tensed and shivered. “I really don’t like it, but what you said last night held too much truth in it. I just…I don’t know. I don’t like it, but maybe it needs to happen at some point—and maybe we should do it sooner than later.” Running his hands through his hair, he backed away and walked to the bathroom. He looked sick with doubt. “I’m going to take a shower. We should leave in a couple of hours.”

              Andrea blinked owlishly at him until he closed the bathroom door behind him.

Chapter 6

              Hours later, they were trekking through a swamp. The guards were armed with bigger guns and even swords. When she asked about the change of weapons, one of them merely said “gators.” It really didn’t explain anything, but she decided it was best not to push it.

              Keeping close to Fernando, her hand snapped to his arm when her foot sunk down into a small mud hole. Gasping and cringing, she glared at the swampy floor. The scents in the air where all pungently horrid, and the thickness of the trees, the vines, and the air itself was making her feel claustrophobic—like she was getting buried beneath rotting wood and green slime.

              “Why did we even take a shower?” she said, tugging uselessly at her leg.

              She jumped when Fernando encircled his arms around. Though his grip on her was initially gentle, he quickly tightened it as he yanked her out of the mud. Together, they stumbled to the side and tripped over a tree root.

              “We’re almost there,” he said, squeezing her arms before releasing her. “Be patient.”

              Huffing, she nodded. “So long as I don’t drown in mud, I’m sure I can manage that.”

              All to serious, Fernando nodded at her in return. Then he and the guards continued onward, so she followed them.

She really shouldn’t have come along with them, but after her first offer to leave Fernando and the Trio be, Fernando had never brought it up again. And then we went on acting as if her presence with them while they traveled to the alchemist’s home was no longer a nuisance. Rather than push her luck any further with him, she had decided long ago to just keep quiet and tag along. She didn’t truly want to leave—didn’t want to go back home and face Ms. Lee. Plus, this entire situation was still incredible, and damn her, she was curious.

Fernando stopped after several minutes, his nose high in the air as he inhaled deeply. After a moment of contemplation, he turned left and walked in that direction.

The guards and Andrea, once again, followed him.

Eventually, they came across a shack that was built into several trees that were all slanted toward one another. Beneath the shack was a large pool of murky water, lily pads and other plants floating on top of it.

Slowing his pace, Fernando sniffed several times. “He’s in there.”

Andrea cocked an eyebrow. “You can smell the alchemist?”

“I can smell everything.”

Her nose wrinkled, her eyes glancing around the swamp. “That’s unfortunate.”

He hummed in agreement. Quickening his pace again, he walked around the slanted trees—as did Andrea and the others—until they all came across a rope ladder that led into the shack.

Fernando turned and pointed at one of his guards. “Rico, you go first. I’ll follow. Then Manny follows me, and then the order after that doesn’t matter.”

The guard—Rico—nodded and hurried over to the ladder before climbing it.

By the time Andrea managed to reach the shack, every one of her muscles were flaring with aches and pains. Panting, she all but threw herself up onto the shack and collapsed on the ground. Knowing there was one more guard following her, she tried to get to her feet as quickly as possible, but her movement was sluggish and awkward. Blindly—tiredly—she stumbled into the shack.

Her gaze darted about. It was much more spacious than she thought it would be. There were a few short tables pressed against the back walls, and there was a tall bookshelf beside her that was full of various books and items, but other than these items, there was nothing but rotting wood. In the center of the room, Fernando and a older gentleman stood. The guards stood off to the side, by one of the tables.

“You okay?” Fernando asked her quietly, his lips pressed tightly together.

Her lungs burned so much that she thought she would pass out. “Fine,” she wheezed, smiling. “I needed the exercise.” She turned her attention to the old man. “I’m sorry to interrupt—” She jumped when the guard behind her came to stand next to her, his hand on the sword at his belt. “—you guys.”

“Are we ready yet?” the older man asked, turning to Fernando. “I’ve waited many lifetimes to bring peace to your species. My first life cursed itself when it cursed the first bear-shifter and—”

“You’ve already explained yourself to me,” Fernando snapped, baring his teeth. “If you can do anything to end the curse, then do it. I’m tired of waiting, too.”

The old man—the alchemist—grumbled in irritation. His robes were torn, revealing bony and hairy limbs. He scratched at his arm and huffed. “Very well. Let’s begin.” He spun around and practically hopped to the other side of the shack. His hands skittered over the walls before sliding over a table that wobbled beneath his touch. He tapped it—did some other things—before turning around to face Fernando again. In the alchemist’s hands was wooden cup of some kind of steaming liquid.

Andrea’s eyes widened. She glanced between the alchemist and the table—the empty table. Dumbfounded, she pointed at it. “How did you—where did that stuff come from?”

“I’ve already explained myself,” the alchemist said mockingly, glaring pointedly at Fernando. “Unless you truly do want to understand the supernatural nature of my home and—”

“No,” Fernando snarled. “Just get this over with.”

Andrea gaped at Fernando—a man normally so paranoid and nosy. “I want to know.”

He shushed her.

The alchemist clucked, shaking his head. “Rude, rude. But if you insist on being dense, I’ll just get on with this
delicate
process.” He took a few steps forward until he was right in front of Fernando, who glared with obvious discomfort. The alchemist then raised the steaming bowl to Fernando’s face. “Breathe it in. This is the first step. We need the remedy to be breathed into your lungs.”

Fernando didn’t even hesitate. Lowering his nose to the concoction, he did as the alchemist instructed several times.

Andrea bit her lower lip, her arms encircling herself. So far, everything looked rather mundane—if not gross and swampy—but something around them was starting to shift. She wasn’t sure what was happening, but the air just felt…different. Worry churned within her as she watched Fernando.

“The next step,” the alchemist said, pushing the bowl closer to Fernando when Fernando started to straighten, “is a little bloody.”

“What?” Andrea croaked.

Neither Fernando nor the alchemist glanced at her, but she saw the guards stiffen.

“I need your essence to express remorse for your ancestor’s faults,” the alchemist continued, his tone scratchier yet gentler. He gave Fernando a weary frown. “It involves me slicing tear trails down your cheeks.”

Fernando didn’t flinch. “Do it.”

Andrea’s heart dropped. “Fernando, I don’t—”

“It’s worth it,” he said calmly, his gaze still focused on the alchemist. “Hurry and do it.”

The alchemist gave on jerky nod. Then, using one hand to hold the bowl up near Fernando’s face, he used his other hand to snake inside one of the many holes in his robes. He twisted his body as his hand searched for something, and when it found that something, he pulled it out.

Andrea clenched her teeth. The alchemist was holding a rough dagger. She desperately wanted to cry out—to argue against this again—but Fernando had spoken his wants, and a twisted part of her wanted to see what would happen.

The alchemist, with a great amount of caution, pressed the tip of the dagger below Fernando’s left eyelid. Then the alchemist pressed harder—Fernando wincing and hissing—until he drew blood. Once that occurred, he dragged the dagger down his cheek and to the edge of his jaw.

Red seeped out of the gash, pooling downward until it started to form one thick drop.

The alchemist was quick to move the bowl beneath the drop. The steam coming from the bowl helped moved and add weight to the blood, and it dropped from Fernando’s face in a matter of seconds.

Andrea released a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. Fernando seemed okay—a little impatient, a little weary, but okay.

The alchemist did the exact same process to Fernando’s other cheek and obtained a second drop of blood for the bowl. Neither he nor Fernando bothered to stop the gashes from continuing to bleed—to drip blood on the floor. It made Andrea queasy.

The alchemist twirled with the bowl in both of his hands and hurried over to one of the empty tables against the back wall. Placing the bowl in the center of one of these tables, his hands dashed out to the sides as if they were shuffling through shelves.

Andrea jumped when she heard the alchemist knock something over—a glass container? A vase? But there was nothing on the tables for him to knock over. How…?

Shock zapped through her. “Are those things invisible?”

The alchemist ignored her and threw something—nothing—into his left palm. A white powder exploded in his hand, and then he rubbed his hands together before running his hands over empty air. Every bit of space he touched, parts of vials and containers were painted into view.

Andrea gasped. “How—?”

“Hush!” the alchemist snapped, grabbing one blue vial and pouring it into the steaming bowl. “I’m working!”

Andrea was too fascinated to be offended. She didn’t dare move or speak again, and instead focused on every little movement the alchemist made as he mixed various chemicals and potions in the bowl. Once it was overflowing, the alchemist grabbed it and spun around until he was facing Fernando again.

“The last step,” the alchemist said, walking up to Fernando, “involves you drinking the remedy as I chant the spell of existence’s apology. You must drink this slowly—give your body time to adjust to what it is absorbing—as I chant the spell. Understand?”

“Yes,” Fernando said. He offered his hands, and the alchemist carefully placed the bowl in them. Then Fernando brought the bowl to his lips. “Ready?”

“Yes,” the alchemist said. “Drink.”

Fernando moved with such slowness that, at first, Andrea thought he was only soaking his upper lip into the concoction. But as the alchemist chanted out gibberish—gibberish, as far as she was concerned—Andrea saw the liquid level in the bowl lower just slightly.

Fernando didn’t wince, didn’t twitch—did nothing but kept his expression blank. Andrea stared at him to see if he was being poisoned or not, but he never gave any indignation if such a thing was happening to him. Andrea’s nails dug into her arms as she tightened her hold on herself.

Within a minute, the alchemist chant’s had grown louder—to the point where he was practically screaming nonsense at Fernando. And Andrea almost believed that this was a joke being played on her. The ridiculous of the sight before her—a billionaire being shrieked at by an older man in rags—if she hadn’t seen a bear-shifter transform before her own eyes, she would have laughed in that moment.

Then, in the next second, the liquid shot up from the bowl and entered through every one of Fernando’s facial orifices. He reeled back, unable to gasp as the liquid overtook his mouth.

“Fernando!” Andrea gasped, stepping forward but hesitating when Fernando began to glow.

The alchemist screamed louder, and Fernando shook—began to transform—stopped in mid-transformation—

Then he screamed.

Andrea darted forward out of some kind of protective instinct. She reached for him just as a black spirit shot out of his pores and crashed against the shack’s roof. The spirit shattered on impact, and Andrea and Fernando collapsed to the floor, her hand on his arm.

“It is done,” the alchemist said from somewhere behind her. “It is finally done.”

Andrea didn’t care about the alchemist. Scrambling on her knees, she patted Fernando everywhere. “Fernando?! Fernando?!” Shakily, she turned him over and pressed her fingers against his neck.

He gasped, his body jolting violently before going lax.

Andrea jumped back, bafflement and panic overwhelming her. She immediately returned to patting Fernando—she didn’t know what else to do, how else to make sure he was alive and whole. “Fernando?”

His wide eyes snapped to her. It seemed to take him a few seconds to register her, but when he did, he smiled the widest smile she had ever seen on him. “I’m better.”

“What?”

“I’m human.”

Before Andrea could think of a decent question to ask him, he shot up and captured her lips with his.